The Middleman
by Dark818
Summary: Originally written for my Literature class, to act as a chapter after the final chapter.


**A/N I was the one who asked to create a page for _The Hunter_, and I hope that there will be many more stories about it.**

M pulled the rental car to a stop, and opened the door. The top level of the parking lot was empty, except for a silver sedan, obviously a rental as well. He retrieved his pack, taking care not to shake it too much. Even though there was almost nothing in it, the bag still felt heavy, like the weight of the world between his shoulders. The door of the other car slid open smoothly, and the middleman stepped out. His grey suit was freshly pressed, his suit polished, He looked like and other businessman going to work. M wondered for a moment about the middleman's past. Had he just been another businessman, living a normal life, then pulled into a more extreme levels of dealing? Or had he always been in the business? Had he once been like M, and then decided to take a different path? M walked over, trying to keep a rhythm with his steps to calm his nerves.

He couldn't understand it, he had done this dozens of times Why was this time any different? All he had to do was just hand over the thylacine organs, and walk away with his money. But the whole thing just felt wrong. M felt a twinge as he though of the thylacine As unprofessional as it may have been, he had started feeling for the job, a bad habit in his line of work. He should have just killed the thylacine and harvested the organs, yet he allowed himself to become emotionally connected. He felt guilty about killing the thylacine, even though it was what he was being paid to do. Worse still, he had begun to think about people, too. His thoughts drifted back to Bike and Sass, and their mother, Lucy. He felt guilty about leaving without seeing them one last time. Even though it was the right thing to do, there was a hole in his stomach that re-opened every time he remembered them. M pushed the thought from his mind. In his line of work, he couldn't afford to become emotionally attached.

The middleman turned, and offered a grim smirk. "Took your time getting here", he said.M smiled faintly. "Traffic was murder." The middleman raised an eyebrow. "Careful, that almost sounded like a joke", he quipped. "I assume you have the package?"

"Yes. I also obtained samples of bone marrow, saliva and hair."

"Why? They weren't asked for."

"No, they weren't/ But in case they're ever needed. Better safe than sorry." The middleman smirked again. It was starting to annoy M, that smirk. It was too full of arrogance. Did he have a smirk like that? He was well aware that he had faults, but was over-confidence one of them? The middleman turned towards his car. "Alright, you know where the money is." M had been through this so many times, he didn't need to be told what to do. His money was in the trunk of the middleman's car. All he had to do was place the thylacine organs in there, remove his money, and the job would be complete. M walked over to the sedan. He tried to open the trunk, but couldn't. "I can't find the handle."

"Sorry, I forgot. It opens from inside the car. Hang on."

The trunk opened with a click. Inside was a pile of bundled notes. M had requested thatt they be bundled in $1000 sets, and he counted them as he placed them in his bag, making sure he was getting the right amount. Then he pulled out the insulated silver box that contained what was left of the thylacine. M paused for a moment, thinking about what he had been through in order to obtain them. The box held within it the potential to save an entire species, yet people would never know about his arduous task in retrieving its contents. He felt a tinge of nostalgia, but this soon passed. He placed the box in the trunk and closed it. The middleman made another annoying smirk. "Congratulations. You;re now $50,000 richer." He held out his hand. "It was nice working with you." M shook it. "And you as well." Without another word, the middleman got in the rental sedan and drove down the ramp, out of M's sight. M knew that he would never see the man again, that next time, there would be a new middleman, with the same grey suit and shiny shoes. M sighed wearily and turned back to his car.

As he drove out of the parking lot, M wondered where he would go, now that the job was complete. It would be at least six months until another one arose. He could return to Tasmania, explain to Lucy and the kids what really happened. He might even be able to start a decent life with them. M sighed. They would never believe him, and even if they did, they would hate him for it. No, he couldn't go back. He had to keep moving forward. find a small house somewhere, and wait for the next contract to reveal itself. M turned onto the street, and drove away from the parking lot, the past, and the thylacine.


End file.
